


Players and Pawns

by naughty_sock



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gentle noncon, Hostage Situations, Mind Games, Rape/Non-con - Victim targeted for the effect it will have on a third party, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughty_sock/pseuds/naughty_sock
Summary: "Marcus," he bit out between clenched teeth. "I swear, if you hurt my daughter-"Marcus cut him off with a laugh. "How much I hurt her is entirely up to you, old friend."
Relationships: Enemy agent/Teen daughter of his male professional rival, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Players and Pawns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allyoops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoops/gifts).



The flash drive was burning a hole in his pocket.

It always felt that way when he was coming to the end of a mission  –  a mixture of satisfaction for an accomplished mission and trepidation that something could go wrong at the last minute. But he was almost home. 

He'd done his country proud.

All that was left to do was drop off the intel to his handler, and in a few hours, he would return from his "business trip" just in time for his daughter's sixteenth birthday. For once, he would actually be there to celebrate it with her. God knew, he'd missed too many of them. 

The job always came first. It was too important not to.

He left the airport and flipped up the collar of his coat to ward off the autumn chill before hailing a cab.

The car had barely pulled away from the curb when his phone rang. He smiled when, upon unlocking the screen, his daughter's laughing face greeted him. She was several years younger in the photograph, her cheeks streaked with fingerpaint and a pair of fuzzy cat ears perched lopsidedly on her head. It had been taken at a fair when she'd been ten, back when her mother had still been alive, and as he looked down at it, he felt the passage of time keenly. Moments like this, carefree and innocent in their joy, were getting few and far in between.

His little girl was growing up fast, and in two more years, he would no longer come home to her because she'd be off to university – living her own life, in which visiting her father would have a much lower priority than making new friends and figuring out how to navigate the challenges of adulthood.

_ But not quite yet _ , he thought wistfully as he accepted the call.  _ I still have two more years before she flees the nest. _

"Melissa, sweetheart. You will never believe where I am right now."

"Oh, I can make an educated guess," a male voice replied on the other end of the line. "But even more impressively, I can tell you where you're going to be an hour from now. How's that for a birthday surprise, Clarence?"

* * *

His body felt cold.

He told the bewildered cab driver to pull over and threw some money at him. This was not a conversation he could afford to have in front of witnesses.

"Marcus," he bit out between clenched teeth when he recognized the voice. "I swear, if you hurt my daughter-"

Marcus cut him off with a laugh. "How much I hurt her is entirely up to you, old friend. I'm definitely going to play with her though. You have caused me far too much trouble, and I deserve to enjoy myself a little now that I have the upper hand again."

A wave of freezing anger surged through him. "Touch her–"

" –and you will kill me. Yes. Of course. I have no doubt that you will try."

"What do you want?"

"The flash drive. Have you made any copies of it?"

"No."

"I hope that is the truth, Clarence. Just look at your beautiful daughter. That's a very cute dog she's playing with."

Looking down at his screen, he saw his daughter standing on the sloping meadow of their neighborhood park throwing a brightly colored ball for Twister, their labrador-mix, to chase. She was laughing as the wind swept her long hair into her face and Twister raced towards her with a wagging tail.

His throat closed up knowing that she was unaware that she was being watched… unaware of the danger in which she was.

"So carefree," Marcus said, his voice dripping with venom. "They're still so innocent at that age. Though I have to admit, I'm a little surprised you let her walk around in a skirt that short. Not very practical in this weather. A slave to fashion, is she?"

"Stay the fuck away from her. I'll give you the damn flash drive."

He needed a car. Or a motorcycle. Something… anything that would get him to Melissa.

"You better hurry up then. You know where to find us. And in the meantime, I'll just head on over and introduce myself, shall I?"

"Don't you fucking d–" The connection cut out.

* * *

By the time he reached the park, it had started to rain. The car he'd stolen jumped the curb as he hit the breaks and he swore loud enough to startle a woman who was hurrying towards the shelter of a coffee shop across the street.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. As much as he wanted to rush out and tear Marcus limb from limb, he needed to compose himself. If his emotions got the better of him… if he lost control…

He had to think about Melissa. His priority was to get her away from Marcus and make sure she was safe. Revenge would have to wait. He couldn't let his fear for his daughter get the better of him. That's how mistakes happened.

Once he felt reasonably calm, Clarence left the car and entered the park.

A few hardened joggers were ignoring the drizzle that cast a grey curtain over the sky. Clarence stepped around a group of people holding colorful umbrellas and walking their dogs and hurried past the grove of willow trees where the path forked around the lake.

The meadow was to his right, and, heart hammering in his throat, he stepped off the path and into the underbrush near the shore. The reed here were high enough to hide his approach, and while he doubted that Marcus would give him the opportunity to sneak up on him, he hoped that he could at least assess the situation before he was forced to betray his presence.

The playground by the shore was deserted, which was not unexpected but still a relief. The fewer bystander he had to take into account, the better. He crept along its edge and up the sloping shore where the reed went all the way up to the path.

Beyond it lay the meadow, an open expanse of lawn used for picnics and barbecues in the summer, kiting in the fall, and sledding in the winter.

It was empty.

Hands clenching and unclenching with tension, Clarence followed the slow progress of an elderly couple with his eyes.

Where was Melissa? His mind raced as he considering where Marcus could have taken her, but the park stretched across ten blocks and there were too many possibilities.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and put in his Bluetooth earbuds.

"I'm here," he said tersely when the call was accepted.

"Daddy." The frightened relief in his daughter's voice hit him with the force of a freight train.

"Melissa, are you okay? Where are you, sweetheart?"

"Why, Clarence," Marcus's voice cut in, "I was beginning to think that you wouldn't show up. But don't worry. Your lovely daughter and I have used the time to get better acquainted. Melissa, darling, tell him what we've been doing."

Clarence gritted his teeth when he heard his daughter whimper. His hands clenched so hard around the phone that he wouldn't have been surprised to hear the casing crack.  _ Stay focused. Stay focused. _

"Tell me where you are," he growled. "I have the flash drive."

Marcus ignored him. His voice lowered to a soft whisper. "Go on, sweet thing. Tell your father what I'm doing right now."

Melissa sobbed. "He- he is touching me," she said so quietly that her voice barely carried over the line.

Clarence abandoned his cover and rushed out onto the meadow. Fuck being sensible. They had to be here somewhere. They couldn't be far.

"Where, sweetheart? Where am I touching you?"

"No. Please." The horrified shame in his daughter's voice cut him to the bone. 

"Tell him. If you want him to come and rescue you, you have to tell him, sweetheart."

"It's okay," Clarence said as he ran up the hill. He tried to keep his voice low and comforting, but his blood was boiling with rage. "You can tell me, Melissa. It'll be okay. I'll come and get you, I promise."

Seconds passed. They felt like hours. Then her shaking voice reached his ears. "He's touching my t- my- my chest."

"There you go. Good girl," Marcus crooned. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Clarence heard a soft, wet sound and tried really hard not to imagine Marcus kissing his daughter's temple in approval while he groped her.

"Stop touching her and tell me where you are."

"But her tits are so soft, Clarence. So small and tender. Exquisite to the touch, and we both know that I'm a connoisseur of the finer things in life." Marcus chuckled while a hard fist clenched around Clarence's gut. He would kill him. He would strangle the man with his bare hands. 

"You will find us on the other side of the hill in one of the lean-tos on your right. Though you might want to pay that exuberant little runt of yours a visit first. I left a present tied to his collar."

"I'm almost there," Clarence said as he crested the hill. "Do you hear me, Melissa? I'll be with you in a minute."

Her voice quavered. "Okay, daddy"

He spotted Twister right away. The dog was tied to a lampost halfway down the hill. His coat was wet from the rain, and he whined softly and pulled at his leash. His attention was focused on the lean-to on the other side of the meadow. 

While Clarence wanted nothing more than to rush straight to his daughter, he headed for Twister instead. Marcus wouldn't be stupid enough to tell him where he was if he wasn't sure that he could get away, and he had no desire to walk into another trap. Especially not if it put his daughter even more at risk.

As soon as Twister realized that Clarence was there, he barked and changed direction, straining against his collar with enough enthusiasm to almost strangled himself. Clarence patted his head in greeting and immediately felt along his collar until he found a small vial that had been tied to it.

He stopped breathing. 

His fingers shook as he untangled the glass bottle and lifted it so he could read the label.

"Do you remember?" Marcus asked, voice harsh and unforgiving. "Congratulations, Clarence. You found a way to break one of my agents and make him spill all his secrets. I hope you're happy with the information you got. I hope you felt fucking overcome with joy because I am looking forward to those same feelings."

"You can't. You can't do this. She's my daughter. She has nothing to do with this."

"Neither had my protégé's family, Clarence, but that didn't stop you, did it?" 

Melissa whimpered. "Do you know what your father did, darling? Did he ever tell you what he does for a living?"

"Please," he heard his daughter's trembling voice. "Please stop. Just stop. Daddy, make him stop."

"I didn't poison your agent's family. God, Marcus. I'm not a monster."

"Well, you certainly made him believe that you did. And maybe that's the same thing I'm doing. Maybe. But can you really take the chance?"

He couldn't. And Marcus knew that. He also knew -- they both did -- what kind of reputation Marcus had. Vicious. Merciless. Liked to play mind games, but always two steps ahead of his enemies. If Clarence had known that the agent who had given him the flash drive had been associated with Marcus, he would have taken more precautions. He'd been too careless, too sure of victory, and now Melissa was paying the price, and he was powerless to do anything but play along.

"How much did you give her?" Clarence asked through gritted teeth as he threw the vial to the ground.

"Enough. She has about an hour, but we won't take that long, will we? So don't worry. There's plenty of time for you to win the antidote."

"What do you want me to do?"

"See, this is more like it. It's so much easier to deal with your father when he cooperating, Melissa."

"What do you want?" Clarence shouted. He didn't realize that he'd been walking towards the lean-to as he spoke. His steps only faltered when he got close enough to see Melissa's frightened face. 

The lean-to was a convenient place to seek shelter from sun and rain in the summer, and in the winter, when Melissa had been younger, they'd often stashed a thermos with hot chocolate here while they'd sledded down the hill or gotten into snowball fights. Clarence remembered her red cheeks and nose, the sparkle in her eyes, the laughter as she aimed straight for his face while she dogged around the snowman they'd built to avoid his own missile.

A stone bench and table were cramped under the timbre roof, and Marcus sat facing the meadow with Melissa on his lap. Her hands were on the table in front of her, fingers shaking around the phone she held. Marcus had cupped her small breasts from behind and rolled and tweaked her nipples until Clarence could see them poking against the soft material of her sweater.

Hell's fire, had she not worn a bra when she'd left the house? Or had Marcus taken it off her?

He stopped himself abruptly. He couldn't think like this. None of what was happening was Melissa's fault. It was his.

He met his daughter's pleading gaze but didn't dare to approach. "It's okay, Melissa. It will be okay." His reassurance sounded hollow even to himself.

The sound of a jogger coming up the hill startled all of them. Clarence held his breath as the man rounded a curve in the path. It cost him everything he had to turn away from the lean-to and take a step back towards Twister, but he couldn't stay where he was. Staring at the shelter would only draw attention to Marcus and Melissa, and who knows what Marcus would do then.

He counted to five as he walked back across the meadow. The footsteps got louder. 

"Easy now, Clarence. Don't do anything foolish." Marcus's voice sounded strained over the phone. 

Clarence waited, tense, his heart pounding in tandem with the jogger's footfall.

The man huffed and puffed as he ran up the hill. He threw a curious glance in Clarence's direction, and Clarence could only imagine what a picture he made standing in the middle of the meadow, hair plastered to his head in the drizzling rain. But he didn't look toward Marcus and Melissa. When Clarence met his gaze, he quickly focused back on the path ahead and ran past the shelter where his daughter was held hostage.

"Very good," Marcus said. "Now, do you have the flash drive?"

Clarence retrieved the item from his pocket and showed it to him. Marcus smiled. He didn't seem to have any intention to stop groping Melissa.

"Very good. There's a parking lot downhill. Hidden between the sign and the metal post at the entrance is a small magnetic box. Put the flash drive into the box and I'll tell you where the antidote is."

"I can just give it to you," Clarence said.

"No. I want to have some fun first. I deserve it after all the trouble you caused. And what  _ you _ deserve is to suffer and understand to never get in my way again."

Clarence clenched the flash drive in his fists until it hurt.

"What? No comeback? No threats?" Marcus asked. "Good. I'm glad you learned one lesson, at least."

A dog barked up on the hill. A quick glance told him that a pair of women had crested the hill. Heedless of the rain, two Terriers and a Dalmation bounded around them while their owners ducked their heads together under a giant red umbrella.

He cursed. Why were there so many people out in the rain? Why couldn't they stay home where it was warm and dry.

"Don't hurt her," he ground out as he started to run down the hill towards the parking lot.

"Don't worry. I'm going to do the opposite. I'm going to make her feel real good."

He heard Melissa's exclamation of dismay and quickened his steps.

"Go on, tell your daddy what I'm doing."

Melissa whimpered.

"Marcus," Clarence ground out but was interrupted.

"I have my hand between her legs now. Did you know that your daughter shaves her pussy? I bet you didn't. Who's been a naughty girl, eh?"

"Marcus-"

"Hurry up, Clarence. If you still have time to talk to me, you're not running fast enough, so how about I'll give you a little more incentive. I'm going to play with your daughter's pussy until she comes all over my hand, and if I can make her come before you put that flash drive in the box, I'm going to make her come on my cock next. And make no mistake, Clarence, you'll get a first-row seat to round two. I promise you that."

"You bastard."

"Less talking, more running. Because your precious baby girl is already soaking wet. She must have really liked me touching her soft little tits."

Melissa's quiet sobs came over the line.

Clarence ran full out down the hill. The wet grass soaked through the hem of his pant legs and water dripped into his shoes. 

He heard the dog walkers chatter over the phone, heard Melissa gasp and the sound be quickly muffled, and he imagined Marcus's hand covering her mouth to keep her quiet. 

He should have taken Twister with him. What if the dogs wanted to play with him? They had been roaming free without a leash. What if they ran over, and their owners wondered why he was tied to the lamp post? What if they looked around?

He ran faster.

"Good girl." Marcus crooned. "So sweet and wet for me. You like having your pussy touched, don't you? How many boys touched you before, eh? How many put their hands between your legs, sweetheart? How many pushed their cocks into that soft, wet heat?"

Clarence reached the bottom of the hill. He didn't bother to follow the winding path but broke straight through the underbrush, shouldering his way through oleander and boxwood to get to the parking lot beyond.

The snapping of twigs was loud enough to drown out his ragged breathing, but it didn't quite drown out his daughter's crying.

"Look at your phone, Clarence. I want you to see how wet she is, how eager she is to take my fingers."

Clarence gritted his teeth. He didn't look at his phone. He kept running, broke through the last hedge that separated him from the asphalt of the lot and ran full tilt towards the street.

Which was when he remembered that there were three entrances to the parking lot... and all of them had signs posted next to them.

Frustration rode him and a scream rose in his throat. It mixed with Marcus's laugh.

"Stop. Please stop, " Melissa cried.

"Can you see her squirming, Clarence? She's so close. Her pussy is gripping me so tight. It doesn't want to let go of my fingers."

Clarence reached the first post and checked it frantically for a magnetically attached box. When he didn't find anything, he turned and ran towards the second entrance.

Melissa sobbed. A moan escaped her throat.

"You're doing so good, darling," Marcus encouraged her. "Just let yourself go. Enjoy it. Your body wants to. Why deny yourself the pleasure?"

"No." His daughter's outcry took hold of his insides and twisted them mercilessly.

"Hold on, Melissa," he chocked out. "I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer."

"I can't." came her high-pitched reply. "I don't want to, daddy. Please. I don't want to, but I can't."

He reached the second post and slapped his hand against the metal hard enough that he could feel the sting. He wanted to wrench it out of the ground and bash Marcus's head in with it. But here, too, he couldn't find a box.

What if there wasn't one? he wondered. What if Marus was just playing a sick and twisted game, making him run around the park without any chance to save Melissa?

He didn't have a choice. The pavement stretched on endlessly and time seemed to slow down as he rushed towards the last entrance. His lungs burned.

Melissa moaned again. She gasped... and Clarence prayed that she could hold out just a little longer.

He saw the small box attached to the metal pole before he reached the entrance.

A fierce sense of relief rushed through him as he wrenched it off the pole.

Melissa cried out as he fumbled with the latch.

"That's it. Good girl. Good girl." Marcus's pleased exclamation was followed by a sharp half-muffled cry. 

The latch finally opened under his cold and clammy fingers. He dropped the flash drive into it and snapped it shut again. A high pitched beep was followed by a tiny blue light pulsing twice, and then Clarence felt a tingling sensation in his hand as a second, electronic magnet was engaged, wiping the data off the flash drive.

Panting, Clarence wiped the rain off his face and forehead. Adrenalin had his hands shaking.

He'd done it. The flash drive was no longer a threat to Marcus, but it also was no longer a bargaining chip for him.

Reaching into his pocket he fumbled for his phone, hoping that Marcus had enough honor to give him the antidote that would save Melissa. His hands froze as he wiped across the display. 

A live video played out on the screen. Marcus must have shoved the phone underneath the table, because what Clarence saw was two fingers pumping slowly in and out of his daughter's pussy, both of them coated with her slick.

He quickly turned the display over, unable to bear another glance. His stomach was churning.

What had he done? How could he have allowed Marcus to do this to her? He should have strode into the lean-to and killed him, antidote or not. Perhaps there would have been enough time to get her to a hospital. But hospitals didn't have what Melissa needed in stock. She would have died. If he hadn't done what Marcus wanted, he would have doomed her to a slow and painful death.

_ How is this better?  _ he wondered.  _ How can you ever forgive yourself for letting him do this to her? How will she forgive you? _

_ She will hate me _ , he realized. Then thought, more fiercely.  _ At least she will be  _ alive  _ to hate me _ .

"The flash drive is in the box," he told Marcus without looking at his phone. "You got what you wanted. Now tell me where the antidote is."

"I'm sorry, Clarence. But I'm afraid you were a little late."

"You fucking son of a bitch," he roared. "You told me you'd give me the antidote if I dest-"

"And I will give it to you. Unlike you, you see, I am a man of my word. But your darling daughter here wasn't strong enough to resist. She loved it so much, she clamped around me like a vice and she came so hard, Clarence. So hard, you wouldn't believe it if you hadn't been there to feel it."

"I put the flash drive in the fucking box," he said again. He felt helpless. None of his training, nor his experience in the field had prepared him for this. He had faced down an enemy's firing squad and escaped. He had fought his way out of a gun runner's hideout with his bare hands. He had lied his way into the confidence of smugglers, human traffickers, foreign politicians, and enemy assets. He had been trained to use people as if they were pieces on his personal chessboard. Never before had he experienced how it felt to be a pawn on someone else's.

"Daddy, please," Melissa sobbed. "Please get me out of here."

He struggled for words. What could he possibly say to his daughter? How could he reassure her after everything she'd already been through, after every way in which he'd already failed her?

He opened his mouth and closed it again. His eyes were burning. He had no words. He was a failure.

"Stand up, sweetheart. That's right. Up you go. Lay down on the table for me, will you? That's a good girl. Don't you just love it when they're so obedient, Clarence? You raised her well. Whoops, more people coming our way. I really should have chosen a better place to do this, but they're in a hurry. Do you think I should let them see me fuck your daughter? They're all young men. Maybe they'd like to have a turn once I'm done with her?"

Clarence hung his head, defeated. "What-" he cleared his throat as the rain poured over him. "What would I have to do for you to leave her be?"

Marcus laughed. "Oh, no, Clarence, have I finally broken you? How disappointing."

"Just tell me. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt her anymore."

"Do you hear that, darling? Your father is willing to surrender. Alright, I will make this easy for you. Melissa, dear, all your father has to do if he doesn't want me to get my cock wet in that tight little snatch of yours is to tell me not to fuck you. That's it. If he tells me not to fuck you, I won't. I promise."

"D-Dad?"

"I will walk away and you'll never see me again," Marcus said soothingly. "I'd regret it, now that I know how wet and warm and tight you really are, but I'll do it. I'll walk away."

_ You'll walk away without telling me where you stashed the antidote _ , Clarence thought bitterly.

"Dad? Tell him. Please. Just tell him."

The high-pitched panic in Melissa's voice twisted him up until he staggered forward. He fell to his knees.

"Tell him, daddy. God, please tell him." She sounded frantic. There were fresh tears in her voice. Fear. Confusion. Disbelieve.

"Daddy. Please. Oh, god, please. Why won't you tell him? Just tell him. Tell him, please." She sobbed until her words were barely intelligible. "Please." 

Betrayal. Disgust. Horror.

Her feelings hit him, each like a dagger to the chest.

He felt numb and cold, and if he laid down on the pavement and closed his eyes, he would never get up again.

"Daddy!"

It took him an endless minute until he found his voice. A minute he spent listening to his daughter crying as she realized that he wouldn't save her, that he'd failed her so completely that they would never come back from this. A minute spent listening to Marcus gently soothing her with reassurances, how he'd take care of her, how gentle he would be, how he'd make a real woman out of her.

"Where is the antidote?" he finally asked. His voice sounded as broken as he felt.

"Go home, Clarence. Call me when you get there."

* * *

Even though he only lived a block away, he still hotwired another car. It would have taken less than five minutes to run home, but every second Melissa spent with Marcus was a second too long.

His hands shook so badly as he tried to open the front door that it took him half a dozen tries just to get the key into the lock.

His housekeeper greeted him with a bright smile that faded as she took in his bedraggled appearance.

"Oh my goodness. You are soaked through. I do hope Melissa found shelter somewhere. She didn't take a jacket with her when she went out to walk Twister. I've been trying to call her, but her phone keeps sending me straight to voicemail. Here let me help you with that."

She reached up to help him out of his coat, but he warded off her hands with his own.

She blinked at him, clearly confused. "Is everything alright?"

"I need you to leave."

"I beg your pardon?"

He struggled to hold on to his temper. He needed to call Marcus. He couldn't waste any more time.

"Take the rest of the day off. I need to be alone to... for Melissa's birthday tomorrow. I want to decorate. It's supposed to be a surprise when she comes home today."

It didn't really make sense but it was the best lie he could come up with.

"Oh, of course. If you're sure. The present you ordered for her arrived today. I put it in your study, so she wouldn't find it."

_ What present?  _ The question died on his tongue. "Thank you," he said instead, hoping to hide his impatience.

His housekeeper had barely shut the door behind her, when Clarence wiped the phone against his wet shirt, drying off as much water as possible. He called his daughter's phone while he opened the door to his study.

"Did you find my present?" Marcus asked. "It was delivered this morning. Perhaps your charming housekeeper can help you find it?"

Marcus stared at the elegant white box on his desk. It was wrapped with a large silver and red bow. "I found it," he said as he carelessly threw the phone onto his desk and tore it open. A syringe dropped out of it. It was filled with a clear liquid.

"How do I know-"

"-that this is the antidote? Oh, Clarence, the same way you know whether or not I actually poisoned your daughter. You don't. And unless you have her blood tested, you never will. And that's what's going to eat you alive, old friend. You'll never know if you could have prevented all this if you'd only come for me straight away."

"I want to talk to my daughter."

"Oh, she isn't with me anymore, but don't worry. I told her to wait for you, and since she's such a good girl, I'm sure that's what she will do. I'll be on my way now. I enjoyed doing business with you, Clarence. I enjoyed it very much."

The call cut off.

A second later, he received a video file from Melissa's number. His thumb hovered over the play button. He didn't want to see what it was, but he had to. Just in case it was important and not just another reminder of how badly he had let Melissa down.

He pressed play.

* * *

He made it back to the park after he'd emptied his stomach into the paper bin in his study. His stomach was still churning, and the images from the video replayed themselves over and over in his mind.

Her scared, tear-streaked face flashed before his eyes as he opened the car door. He saw Marcus smile into the camera of his phone as he ran up the path that ended in the meadow. He swallowed the rising bile in his throat as the image of Marcus thrusting into Mellissa's cunt replayed on loop against his retinas, as he heard her whimper and cry while the wet slide of Marcus's cock into her body filled the background with its obscene noise.

His knees trembled when he saw his daughter sitting in the meadow, her arms slung around Twister's neck, her face buried against his fur. And he recalled the expression on Marcus's face when he came, when he slumped over and emptied himself inside her.

When Clarence knelt in the wet grass next to his daughter, he saw recalled Marcus pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head, he heard him tell her to stay put because her daddy would be here soon. He heard him tell her how lovely she was, how sweet she'd felt around his cock, how much he'd loved filling her with his come, how well she'd taken all of it.

Melissa flinched when he touched her shoulder, and something inside him shriveled up and died.

For as long as he lived, he would never be able to forget the look she gave him, loathing and self-loathing warring for dominance behind her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he offered her, knowing how inadequate the words were. He held out the syringe. "I'm so sorry, darling."

"Don't call me that," she whispered. "Don't ever call me that again."


End file.
